Monday, April 20, 2015

Fishing Partner

One Saturday afternoon,
I was fishing with shrimp in the brackish waters between West Palm Beach and
Palm Beach across the street from First Baptist Church when a vagabond
approached me for money. Silver and gold had I very little, but what I had, I
offered him, that is, an ear. And he filled it with his obviously mendacious
story, which was most certainly rehearsed and worked-on and worked-out through
his years of handling the pan. As full of contradictions as his tale was, it
was fascinating the way each episode made him look like a benignly resilient victim
of the most awful circumstances.

The bottom line was
that although he was a good guy, a stellar father, an ideal husband, a perfect
son and brother, neither his ex-wife nor anyone in his family would have
anything to do with him because they were selfish and unloving, especially in
times of great financial need, such as this time right now. Well, I was fishing
for real fish, but I fished in my pocket and retrieved my wallet and, knowing
all along that it would not be wise to give this prevaricator money, doled out
the few bills I had, all ones. I also told him about nearby Samaritan Gardens,
a homeless shelter operated by First Baptist. He grabbed the bills gratefully
and went on down the waterway towards the shelter, saying over his shoulder, “I
hope your generosity brings you good luck—may you catch a big one.” I never got
another bite that afternoon.

I watched him as he
turned into the office of Samaritan Gardens and felt satisfied that I had helped
the man. You see, the church had purchased a motel adjacent to their property
and turned it into a nice set of apartments to temporarily house the homeless.
The staff worked with local businesses and employment specialists to get jobs
for those who dwelt there. The number one rule was that if Samaritan Gardens
got you a job, you took it. If you refused the job, you lost your apartment.
Fair enough, right? Well, there were those who refused to work and, sure
enough, they found themselves back on the streets. I hope they found my new
acquaintance a job and I hope he took it and got back on his feet long enough
to be reconciled with his loved ones.

Because of my
observations of the homeless both in California and Florida (and to some degree
in Texarkana), I feel that the First Baptist Church in West Palm Beach had the
best idea. Help people help themselves. It is analogous to a good theory of
education: teach people to be their own teachers. If you stimulate curiosity
and demonstrate research methods, you have provided tools that truly educate.

It amounts to the same
thing. Every worthwhile goal requires effort and sometimes that effort is
difficult indeed. We must remember also that sometimes the reward for good work
is more work. The answer to that one is to unite your vocation with your
avocation as your two eyes make one in sight. Robert Frost’s “Two Tramps in Mud
Time” clarifies the concept.